


Concord

by dormiensa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Post-Season/Series 04, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 08:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10272497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: Mycroft can't seem to shake off Sherlock's surveillance.  And it would never do for The British Government to send a cease-and-desist message via CCTV cameras.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The last bit of the summary is a bit misleading—I just couldn't help referring to Sherlock's antics with the CCTV cameras in S04E02.

Sherlock had sat opposite him for over an hour.

He’d been in the house for three hours, according to the logs. But what was astonishing was that he’d used his set of keys to gain entry. And hadn’t disturbed anything.

And despite having returned from his mind palace for at least a half-hour, he still brooded. Mycroft knew it was pointless to engage his brother in conversation before he was ready. When in the right frame of mind, Sherlock fitted the environs of the Diogenes even better than his elder brother.

Mycroft sighed. In spite of having successfully connected with Eurus these past few weeks, Sherlock had become increasingly quiet and thoughtful. He only truly came alive when the little Miss Rosamund Watson was in the mood to play. 

Inexplicably, Mycroft had become a target of Sherlock’s attention as well. His brother’s excuses for showing up at his various offices and the Diogenes were inclining toward the feeble now. And he’d regressed to his four-year-old self, the frequency of rib-compressing hugs quite as uncaring of Mycroft’s personal space as they used to be. Not that Mycroft minded. He’d never minded it. But they’d stopped, quite abruptly, once Sherlock had turned eleven.

Mycroft briefly closed his eyes and dispelled the feelings of regret. _Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side._ Mycroft’s chin dropped to his chest. It was indeed. And how much he’d lost…

“You’re her favourite brother, you know.”

Mycroft’s head snapped up and he stared at his brother.

“You needn’t look so incredulous, brother mine. You were the clever brother who always knew about things, who could explain the world better than anyone. You taught us to read, remember?”

“That was only so that you could be occupied with your own books.”

Sherlock smiled slightly. “Nonetheless, you made everything interesting. You taught us about puzzles and how to solve them.” He paused, hesitant to disclose the knowledge he’d been brooding over the past while. “That’s how this all began. I was convenient and willing but not the one she wanted to play with. Unfortunately, you were content and capable of amusing yourself. So, she used my ability to force you to play to get your attention.” 

“That’s absurd.”

“Oh, brother mine, always underestimating your own worth. Do not think, because Mummy focussed her energies on Eurus and me, that you aren’t important. To any of us.”

Mycroft attempted, unsuccessfully, to respond. Sherlock’s smile widened and he looked fondly at his flabbergasted brother. But his amusement waned and he leaned forward, his expression earnest. 

“Eurus and I have inherited Mummy’s strong emotions. While I merely lacked control of them, she couldn’t even identify what they were. I’ve always envied you taking after Father: more rational and in control your feelings; I’m sure Eurus felt the same, even if she couldn’t articulate it.” He sighed. “One of the strongest and inexplicable emotions she felt and continues to feel is jealousy. She revealed yesterday that she chose the violin because you were so brilliant at the piano.” Sherlock’s expression softened at Mycroft’s incredulity. “Said she could never play with your level of composure.”

Mycroft shook his head and sighed. “But she channelled her wealth of emotions through the violin. Once she’d mastered the mechanics, she was breathtaking. It’s… how I convinced the committee to approve the purchase of the Stradivarius. I’d given her a violin after she was moved to Sherrinford, but she wanted the Strad as reward for resolving the Tajikistan crisis.”

“I wondered at the unusual tactics. Not at all Lady Smallwood’s style. I assume our sister also had input in settling the Plunkett scandal.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you see, brother mine, that this is her way of getting you to play? It used to be through manipulating me. After Victor arrived, she assumed she’d have you to herself. But she’d lost the means of attracting your attention. So, she removed Victor. And set us that song to solve.”

Mycroft buried his head in his hands. “And I failed you. I should’ve realized that it was a puzzle.”

“No!” Sherlock practically shouted. “Mycroft… look at me.” When his brother grudgingly obeyed, he fixed their gazes. “It wasn’t your fault. Neither of us could’ve solved that riddle then. I wasn’t clever enough and you hadn’t the context. You’ve never craved attention, and you’d never consider causing harm to another to attain it.”

Both fell silent. Mycroft leaned against the back of the armchair and turned unobserving eyes toward the fireplace. 

Finally, he sighed and murmured, “Then I’ve failed her. I couldn’t always keep you safe, but I’ve managed to keep you alive. But Eurus… I really should have done better.”

“No, brother mine. Through her conversations with the Governor and the others, she has learned the necessary emotional vocabulary despite the inability to relate. She could’ve defined what she needed. She chose instead to play mind games. Why else did she want Moriarty? But he proved useless in the end because, instead of taking you down—perhaps so you would need her assistance to maintain your position of power—he became obsessed with me.” 

“Moriarty,” Mycroft snarled, unable to contain his contempt, anger, guilt, and self-recrimination.

“She had to change tactics and Moriarty was demoted from ally to pawn and bait for me. Once again, she needed me to gain access to you. She knows you would do anything to keep me safe. Did you visit her while I was away?”

“Yes, once or twice. She was always curious of your whereabouts and your progress.”

“Of course. Was there anything unusual about the interactions during that time?”

Mycroft pondered and finally nodded. “She would play on the Strad. Previously, she only did so when she was angry with me.”

“She finally had your full attention and presumably your affections. But she was mistaken.” _You love me but not her. She could never supplant me in your heart._ “You care about her, even if you mistrust her, but you wouldn’t risk your life for her.” _And you would never let her kill you to spare her life._

Mycroft was once again speechless. His hands shook as he rubbed his temples then supported his head against steepled fingers.

“At some point, her jealousy conquered. If she was to never be your favourite sibling, then I was not allowed to have you. And killing you would’ve been my punishment.”

“You—the gun—I couldn’t—”

“I know. She miscalculated because she doesn’t understand me.” _She misjudged you as well, thinking you’re like her. Neither of us could ever kill the ones we love._

Mycroft had buried his head in his hands again. He suddenly felt an encompassing warmth and a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head. He sagged forward.

Two weeks later, Mycroft quietly trailed behind his brother as they approached Eurus’ cell. His sister was startled when she observed him. He could feel her eyes on him as he wheeled the pianoforte, built to resemble the square pianos of the Georgian era, toward the middle of the landing area from where it leaned against the wall. Having adjusted his seating, he looked up and was astonished by the genuine, broad smile. He’d forgotten she’d look up at him with such an expression whenever he taught her something interesting. He returned a shy smile. A plucking of strings brought him back to the matter at hand as the siblings tuned their instruments…

And began to play.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an alternative perspective on the whole Holmes sibling relationship.


End file.
